


here until i'm nothing

by buckysbears (DrZebra)



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Dysfunctional Family, Everyone Needs A Hug, Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Mute Claudia, Muteness, Panic Attacks, Post-Season/Series 03, Siblings, Sign Language, viren dies again off screen because fuck that guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrZebra/pseuds/buckysbears
Summary: Claudia decided she would never speak again.If she didn't speak, she couldn't do dark magic, she couldn't do damage, she couldn't drive people away. (She wouldn't say sorry, she wouldn't say something she regretted.) If she didn't speak, she couldn't keep hurting people. She couldn't keep messing up.It probably wouldn't matter, anyway. She was going to waste away in this cave just like her father.(What she didn't expect was for Soren to come back for her.)
Relationships: Amaya & Claudia (The Dragon Prince), Claudia & Soren (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 102





	here until i'm nothing

Claudia decided she would never speak again. 

It was one of those decisions that came in a flash of understanding and insight—you weren’t even thinking of it before the reality hit you all at once. It was the perfect solution, Claudia decided, sitting in the damp and dark cave all by her lonesome, to a problem she didn’t know she had. Dark magic had gotten her into this mess. That hit her all of a sudden as she sat there, her back against the awkward cave wall, no longer feeling the cold (she could no longer feel her hunger, either, which was a problem for a different day—the kind of problem that built and built until it wasn’t a problem at all).

Dark magic. That’s where everything had gone wrong. 

She had wondered as a child if it was their family’s dark magic that had driven her mother away. Mothers liked little girls in dresses, girls who played princesses and who would squirm at the things that Claudia delighted in. Claudia got muddy and messy and squished bugs. She did spells just to turn her eyes black—all the better to scare Soren with. Claudia was loud, curious, and grim. She’d spent sleepless nights wondering if that had been the driving point, had wondered if her mother had a different family, a better one, wherever she was now. 

Her eyes drifted to the still form a ways from her in the cave. 

The form was crinkled and bruised and didn’t look much like a person at all—much less like her father. His organs had given out, that’s what did him in the second time. They didn’t cope with being brought back and they just gave up. Nothing to be done. In his last breaths he’d spat at her that she hadn’t done it right, hadn’t done enough, had brought him back for nothing— _did you bring me back just to suffer?_

_Maybe_ , she thought. _Maybe I did._

Claudia no longer thought her mother left because of her. 

Mothers liked little princesses in dresses, yes, but they also, as far as Claudia knew, liked fathers who laughed, fathers who cared, fathers who smiled every once in a while and not just at their own successes. Daughters, she also knew, liked fathers who said sorry and meant it, but Claudia had never asked for that. She’d never asked so much of him, though he spent every waking moment asking more and more and _more_ of _her_.

Nausea swirled in her stomach. It wasn’t a threat--there was nothing but acid in there anyway. 

Claudia realized, with a heavy sort of dread sitting on her chest, that she was going to miss her father terribly. 

But, right … Dark magic. That’s where the problem lay. It had turned her father into a man who could get anything for a price. He’d turned into a man who was willing to pay any price for the things that he wanted. Others would say he was hungry for power; Claudia thought he was hungry for _satisfaction_. He liked knowing he could get what he wanted, that his desires would be fulfilled, that others would bend to his will to see his goals through. He didn’t like being told no. It wasn’t the power she thought he wanted: it was the comfort that power gave him. Underneath it all, Claudia wondered if her father was just _scared_. 

_Guess I’ll never get the chance to ask him_.

Not that she would have. Not that he would’ve hesitated to punish her if she had. 

_Not that he’d ever admit if he was._

She’d been staring so long that black spots had started to swirl her vision. She blinked, languid and slow, but they didn’t go away. She wondered if this was a price for her spell—for the ultimate spell, to _bring back life_ —but she knew, some subconscious part of her, that she was hungry, thirsty, and _oh so tired_. Had she slept? She didn’t think so, but she couldn’t remember. She was worried that if she fell asleep, she wouldn’t wake back up.

_Maybe that would be for the best_ , she thought. _Maybe then I’d stop messing things up_.

If she had tears, she might have cried about it. But she could hear in her father’s voice what a waste that would be. That was precious liquid, and, more than anything, crying wasn’t _useful_. If you wanted something, you used your wits, you used persuasion and perseverance. You didn’t cry about it. 

_Why did I bring him back?_

She went to look at him again, and it was only after a sad few seconds that she realized her eyes were closed. She wasn’t sure when that had happened. Did she fall asleep? 

Her head tilted back against the cave wall, eyes still fastened shut. 

_Because I love him_ , she thought sadly. She hoped, wished, prayed, that in his own way he had loved her too. She’d thought he did, before. But how much of it was just another of his ploys, she didn’t know. She would have bent Xadia in half to know he meant it. 

Her ears twitched. She swore she could hear that bug writhing around in its cocoon. 

Maybe she _had_ brought him back to suffer—some unconscious part of her that wanted him to feel how she felt in that moment: terrified, aching, and lonely. Soren had already left, just like their mother, and Claudia had wanted nothing except not to be alone. She didn’t think she was that cruel, that vengeful … but the seed had been planted in her head and only wished to worry at her. It scratched like an itch at the back of her skull— _your fault your fault your fault—a_ nd Claudia was too tired to fight with it. It _had_ been her fault. All of it, the whole thing. It was because she used dark magic, she’d decided. 

Which brought her back to her original point. Dark magic required a verbal component, which meant if she just didn’t speak … well then, she couldn’t cast spells, could she? 

(she couldn’t do damage she couldn’t drive people away your fault your fault)

Maybe it was taking things to an extreme, but she was in an extreme situation. There was a war and they _lost_. They paid the price in destruction and death. Her father paid the price for her failures. 

(She paid the price with a family fractured to the marrow.) 

She would never do magic again. She wouldn’t even give herself the chance. 

She’d never done a spell that big before. What if the magic had seeped down into her—into her pores, into her blood, right down to the bone—and the next time she opened her mouth, it was dark magic that came out? What would stop it from taking right over? She heard scary stories of mages gone wrong, of spells gone sideways, when the magic took over until the person was just a vessel for whatever chaos it wished to unleash. It was called _dark_ magic for a reason. Her father never assuaged her fears, never told her they were just stories to scare children straight. He said instead: it won’t get you if you’re strong. It won’t get you if you’re careful. You have to be better than them, Claudia, you have to be _better_. 

Claudia wondered if, in the end, she would be better. It was safer to never find out. 

The decision came to her with a flood of relief. She’d never get into another fight, would never say sorry (would she laugh? she hadn’t decided), she’d never say something she regretted that she ached and groaned over later. If she didn’t talk, all the less chance for her to muck things up. It would be better for everyone, really. Safer. 

Claudia thought, dully, that it might not matter anyway. She hadn’t even tried to leave the cave. Her father had wasted away, cursing all the while, and she … sat. She stared. She watched the last breath pass his lips, two days ago now, and still she sat and still she stared. 

A sigh drew in and out her nose. She really should get up. But the part of her that cared about self-preservation had withered with her hunger. Now, she was mostly tired. She wished for and feared sleep all the same. 

Her ear twitched.

Footsteps. 

At least, she thought they were footsteps. There was something like boots, something like clinking armor. She couldn’t be bothered to open her eyes and check. She was pretty sure hallucinations set in after a few days without water, and if it wasn’t, if the sounds were real … well, any soldier would just do away with her after seeing what she’d done. Better keep her eyes closed. She didn’t want the last thing she saw to be the glare of a sword. 

(The sounds reminded her of Soren’s heavy boots and Soren’s clinking armor, and that was almost enough to do her in by itself.) 

The footsteps stopped not far from her. 

_Not the scariest hallucination to have_ , she thought. 

A sound like sliding clothing. 

Fingers touched her neck. 

Claudia jumped, and the hand pulled away. Blearily, she opened her eyes, and her vision came into focus too slow with a black haze around the edges. 

It didn’t make much sense for a hallucination. She was expecting her father, perhaps Soren, even her mother. A soldier with the head of that bug would have been more expected. But it was General Amaya’s face that her eyes finally focused on, a smile slowly spreading across the woman’s lips.

On reflex, Claudia almost spoke. She’d always been inquisitive, and a question had almost passed through her open mouth before she caught herself and held it back. She let her lips close, swallowing through a burning throat. Amaya’s gloveless hand came up, finding her jaw and moving Claudia’s head back and forth.

It felt … very real. She supposed that was the way with hallucinations, you didn’t know they were fake until you knew, but … The fingers against her jaw were warm and solid, calluses on each tip. Maybe this was her own dark magic playing a trick on her, or maybe … 

Her hand rose, shaking fingers closing around Amaya’s wrist. There was warm skin and the jut of bone under her fingers. 

As Amaya’s eyes trailed to the new streaks of white in her hair, the smile on her lips faltered. Her other hand rose to point at Claudia, then sign _O-K, O-K?_

Was she? She supposed the honest answer to that was a resounding “no”, but that would only lead to more questions. On the other hand, if she nodded yes, her very first action after her resolution was to tell a lie. She wouldn’t be using her voice to do it, but … it counted, didn’t it? It had to. 

She didn’t realize her eyes had trailed away until fingers tapped her cheek. She looked back to Amaya, who was watching her with concern now evident on her face. 

She swallowed. Her throat protested the motion. 

Amaya’s eyebrows raised further to emphasize the question, and it took all Claudia’s effort to lift her shoulders in a shrug. 

“Okay,” Amaya signed. “Can you walk?” 

Another shrug. 

Amaya nodded, her face pinching in sympathy. She removed her wrist from Claudia’s grip, grabbed her sword, and smashed the pommel down on the cave floor. 

The sound echoed across the walls. 

More footsteps. 

“Did you find something?” 

The voice came from the mouth of the cave. It was worried and familiar, and it hit like a punch to Claudia’s chest. 

_No use for tears,_ she heard in her father’s voice. _Just a waste of liquid._

Still, tears came.

It was dark in the cave—probably dusk outside, though Claudia had lost track of the sun a while ago—but the form was unmistakable as it made its way closer. Even with her blurry, tired eyes, even in the dark, Claudia would recognize that armor anywhere. She knew the sound of his footsteps (had memorized them as a child—she knew the footfalls of each member of her family, of the King, of Callum and Ezran) and could feel her heart beating in time. There was no one it could be but him. 

He’d actually come back for her. 

She couldn’t even see as he approached, flooded as her eyes were. Her heart, previously a weak staccato, was hammering in her ears. Suddenly, she was terrified this _was_ a hallucination, or a dream, or a vision—she was terrified the world was going to take Soren from her again.

Amaya’s hands moved as she signed. Most of it was lost to Claudia, but she caught the point towards the body on the floor and the hands flipping over. 

_Dead_. 

Soren nudged the body with his foot. 

“Yeah,” he rasped. “Yeah, looks like.” 

Claudia raised her arm to wipe at her eyes, missing what Amaya said after. She sniffled and blinked away the last of the tears, finally able to see him clearly. 

Soren looked down at her, a worried smile set into his face. He looked on the edge of tears himself—smile wavering and pink around the eyes. 

“Hey, Clauds,” he said. His hand reached out. “Ready to go home?” 

-

This time, Claudia knew she’d fallen asleep. 

She’d been having a nightmare. It hadn’t been coherent, really. She was in a desert, dying of thirst. She was in a great dining hall, the main dining hall of the royal family of Katolis, and she was starving; when she’d pulled the lid off the serving tray, it was her father’s head looking back at her. She was up in the sky, fighting to get back to the ground, each star burning and stinging at her. She was in a cocoon, trapped. 

Trapped. 

She woke with a start, expecting the dark, damp cave. But as she came to, her heart already hammering, she realized that wasn’t where she was. There was a horse beneath her and two armor-clad arms to her either side. 

Soldiers? Claudia didn’t remember being captured, but her head was so heavy and fuzzy that she could barely think straight. Maybe they’d taken her while she was sleeping. Who knows what they would do to her. She had to get back to the cave—her father would be waiting for her there—he needed her if he was going to get stronger—he couldn’t take care of himself like he was. If she left him alone, who could say what would befall him. (She didn’t trust that bug. She didn’t trust it one bit. Claudia had squashed scarier and less suspicious things, and she wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.) 

Claudia jumped from the horse. 

There was a shout as she toppled to the ground, her legs immediately giving out on her. Her knees ached from the impact, and tears sprang to her eyes. Run. She had to run. Get up _get up_. 

Claudia stood as the horse stuttered to a stop behind her. She didn’t think she would make it far, her legs felt like jelly and her stomach was so hollow, but she had to try. What would her father say if she didn’t try? 

She started to run. 

Her legs buckled. 

She fell. 

She hit the ground with what should have been a sound, hard as the impact was. Claudia realized she couldn’t hear, there was a ringing in her ears and the deep thrum of her heartbeat. She pulled in a gasping breath, and the sound returned. It was her own crying that she heard. 

“Claudia, hey, stop!” 

Suddenly, rough gloves against her arms. She tried to pull away, but the grip was far stronger than whatever fight she could muster. 

“Claudia, Clauds, look at me.” 

She gasped another breath, her arms burning where the gloves touched her. Some distant part of her whispered that she wasn’t in danger, that she just needed to pay attention, but panic had made a fearful animal of her. She tried to yank her arms away, tears hot against her cheeks. 

“Claudia, _please_.” 

A hand brushed the hair out of her face. Her lips pulled in a snarl, and part of her had the mind to bite. But the touch was so careful that it gave her pause. It broke through the trance for just a moment. 

She looked up. She blinked away the tears. 

_Soren_. 

Right. 

_Right_. 

He’d come back for her. 

Everything came flooding back in a rush of memory and dread. 

Her father was dead. She’d almost wasted away in that cave all on her lonesome, waiting for … something. She didn’t know what. She’d almost died there, just sitting in the cold with a corpse, a testament to her failures. She wasn’t speaking anymore, either. She’d sworn off it—had sworn off dark magic. 

“You with me?” Soren asked. 

She blinked, her eyes focusing on him again. Behind him was Amaya, concern etched into her face. Surrounding them was the quiet, star-lit night. 

She nodded. 

“Okay.” His hands dropped from her arms and pulled back hesitantly. He watched her. “This was part of your secret plan to give me a heart attack, right?” 

She thought it was a joke. One of her shaking fingers rose to tap her nose. 

Soren smiled. “I always knew it would come to this.”

Behind him, Amaya’s hands began to move. Through her teary eyes it was hard to catch, but Claudia understood the question the second time it was spelled for her. 

“Nightmare?” 

She swallowed. The answer was yes, but to what degree, Claudia didn’t know. She didn’t know if it was possible to sleep within sleep; maybe she’d wake up again and find this whole thing had been one terrible dream—she’d wake up in the castle and have breakfast with her family, she’d read her books and spend time with the princes and everything would just be _normal_. 

Claudia knew with a sunken heart that things would never be normal again. 

Amaya’s face pinched. She’d always been good at reading people. Her hand lowered and found the waterskin at her hip, detached it, and held it out. Claudia took it with shaking hands. She took a small sip at first, just to test; they’d given her water when they found her, but it hadn’t been enough to sate her thirst. The water was so cold and crisp on her tongue, it felt like coming alive again. 

Well. She didn’t know what that felt like, exactly. She’d seen it, though. 

She took another sip, then another. She tipped the waterskin back and squeezed. The water cascaded into her mouth as she took hungered gulps, only serving to feed the tears that still cut lines through her dusty face. It wasn’t enough. She was so thirsty. Claudia wondered if there would ever come a day where she wouldn’t be. 

The waterskin was yanked away. Claudia glared as Amaya pulled it away, her scolding signs quick and decisive. 

“Not too much. You’re going to get sick.”

_I don’t care_ , Claudia thought. _I’m just so thirsty._

“Come on, Clauds,” Soren said, the smile now wiped from his face. “We’re almost there. Then you can rest.” 

Claudia sniffled and nodded, wiping away tears with her wrist. She let herself be helped to her feet, then onto the horse, and Soren was right, their camp wasn’t too much further. They came to it within the hour, just as the moon was making its home at the top of the sky. There was a fire pit with logs around it, as well as a tent pitched against a tree with supplies tucked safely beneath. 

It felt _wrong_. She couldn’t explain it. She was safe here, she was going _home,_ but … some weird, twisted thorn in her heart longed for her cold and quiet little cave, where she didn’t have to worry about anyone or anything except finding her next breath. She’d scared Soren. Already she was causing problems. At least there, there was no one else for her to hurt. 

And … she missed her dad. She thought that she wasn’t supposed to, that he was bad man who had done bad things—had taken advantage of her and her magic and her love—but … she missed him. Maybe one day she wouldn’t, but now, it ate at her heart like poison. 

They just left him there. They just left him in that cave to rot.

“Home sweet home,” Soren said, helping her off the horse. “Home sweet … quickly thrown together campsite? Whatever, it’s … it’s something. Somewhere to rest.” 

Claudia held her feet under her for long enough to make it to a log. She sat down on it, her legs already shaking. 

Amaya dismounted and approached with the waterskin again. 

“ _Slow_ ,” she said, really dragging the sign out. “Okay?” 

Claudia nodded. 

This time, her sips were slow and careful. Her frantic gulps earlier had quickly been regretted—the water twisted her stomach with nausea, and even still, she felt queasy. She wanted her hot brown morning potion. That always made her feel better, even when she felt so terrible after a spell like this. 

She took one final sip, then handed the waterskin back. Amaya nodded gratefully and reattached it to her belt. She was crouched before Claudia, watching her with careful eyes. 

“You need to eat,” she signed. 

Before her hands were even done with the motions, Claudia was shaking her head. 

Amaya’s brows furrowed, then raised in a question. “When was the last time you ate?” 

Claudia’s hand rose to wave over her shoulder. 

“That’s not an answer.” 

The truth was, Claudia didn’t know. It had been before the battle started, she was pretty sure. She’d just been so caught up in everything. But she didn’t know how long ago the battle was … the days in the cave had blurred together, her anguished spell making everything warp and fuzz. 

_Before_ , Claudia signed again. 

The thing was, General Amaya was a blunt instrument. You could point her at a problem with the comfort that she would ram her way right through it and that she was too stubborn to give up until she was done. The other thing was, Claudia realized, that direction had never been _her_ before. 

“You’re eating,” Amaya signed bluntly. She didn’t wait for a response, just moved to the sack with their rations in it. 

Soren watched on nervously. 

Soon, Amaya found what she was looking for. She ripped the roll of bread in half, slapped a slice of what looked like cured ham between it, and sandwiched the two pieces together. She approached again, holding the slapdash sandwich out for the taking. 

Stinging saliva filled Claudia’s mouth. Her stomach protested even the sight of it—groaning and twisting in her gut. 

She shook her head again. 

Amaya sighed through her nose, the sound almost silent. She bent her legs under her and sat on the ground in front of Claudia, and still, the sandwich was held between them. With one hand she signed, “One bite. I can wait.” 

The general did a good job of shielding her expression. The mask was patience and determination, but underneath … Claudia could see worry bleeding through the cracks. Amaya was a hardened soldier, had seen worse things than Claudia could imagine … but she was also _Aunt Amaya_. She’d watched them grow up. They were like family. 

And here Claudia was, making her worry. Another way she was failing them. 

Her hands reached out. 

She already knew it was a bad idea before she brought the food to her lips, she knew this was going to go very poorly, very quickly, but still, she ripped a chunk of bread and meat off with her teeth (a small chunk, admittedly), chewed, and swallowed. 

The two of them regarded each other. 

Amaya had deft hands. She had a ribbon in Claudia’s hair, tying everything back, before Claudia even knew she’d need it. But she did. Oh boy, she definitely did. The solitary bite had settled in her stomach for only moments before making its way back up.

Claudia dashed away from the camp with a sudden burst of strength and urgency—she leaned against a tree, made a grab at her now-tied hair, and didn’t try to fight it. 

Hands replaced her own around her hair, catching a few stray strands that threatened to fall in front of her face. Another settled on her back, rubbing up and down. 

“You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?” Soren asked. 

The hand on her back left, then resettled a moment later. 

It took Claudia a few moments to catch her breath as she coughed. Her throat _burned_. It felt like she’d swallowed magma, or maybe something minty, or rotten, or …? Whatever it was, it hurt. But was also …

Suddenly, she realized what had happened. The same thing had happened before, only once, after she healed Soren. It had been the same sensation—burning, tingling, stinging. 

“So that doesn’t look … great,” Soren supplied helpfully from behind her. 

Claudia was almost too afraid to open her eyes, but she did, blinking tears away from them. 

Yeah. 

That’s what she thought. 

It was the same charred, black ooze as before, something like the remnants the dark magic had left in her. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but if it turned out the mass of it was the damaged lining of her insides … well, you wouldn’t have to mark her down as surprised. Her body was worn and frayed. You could see it in the white stain of her hair, but she could _feel_ it inside her. Dark magic was killing her, bit by bit. 

Part of her said, _might as well_. The other, stronger part said, _it’s not going to take me like it took my father_. 

She did feel better now, though. That was something. Whatever that thing was, she was glad not to have it in her body anymore. 

Huh …

If the weird tingly was magic … spent, used-up magic, but still magic … she wondered if someone could have done dark magic with _her_ —used the magic within her like she used the magic of so many other creatures.

The thought made her laugh. It was a sad, desperate sort of laugh, but it was laughter all the same. The hands on her hair transferred to her arms, keeping her upright as she almost doubled over with the force of it. 

“Okay,” Soren said, sounding thoroughly weirded-out. “Let’s, uh … let’s sit you down, yeah?”

The two of them helped Claudia back to the camp and sat her on the log again, and after a minute, Claudia settled. Now that the laughter had stopped, Claudia’s body shivered and shook. As Amaya fussed around the camp, pitching a tent and rolling out the sleeping mats and blankets, starting a fire and securing all their supplies, Soren sat next to her. His arm was around her shoulders, just holding her to him. 

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Soren said, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself. “We’re going to go home, and then …” He paused. The fire crawled into life and began to flicker, starting to crack in the air. He sighed. “We’re going home.” 

Claudia didn’t respond. Even if she was speaking, she wouldn’t have anything to say. 

She tilted her head to rest on his shoulder, and closed her eyes. 

-

Now that her eyes had adjusted to the dark, now that Soren was fast asleep, clad in soft pants and a short-sleeved shirt with his heavy armor cast to the side, Claudia could see the toll the battle had taken on him. 

Bruises lined his arms—deep purple covering various nicks and scratches, some already beginning mottle green and yellow. A cut tore from his bicep to just above his elbow. There was a burn on the inside of his wrist that Claudia thought with dawning horror was from one of her own spells. And besides that, bags hung under his eyes, dark even in sleep, that she hadn’t seen the likes of since he first started his Crown Guard training. 

Her side did that. Her father’s army did that. _She_ did. 

To her brother. His son. Their friend. 

The rest of the sandwich sat like lead in Claudia’s stomach. 

She remembered holding the staff with the corrupted light high above her head, pulling magic for the spell and letting it loose on the opposing army. People had fallen. A lot of people. She hadn’t seen them get back up, but she hadn’t been worried about that at the time; they were the enemy, even Soren standing behind the front lines, even General Amaya, Callum, Ezran—they were the _enemy_. What she was doing was right. That’s what her father told her. 

She could comfort herself and say her father had brainwashed her, that he used his wits and her love and his magic to win her to his side, that she had no fault in any of this, really, was just another victim. 

But that wasn’t true. 

Soren had seen the truth. Soren _left_. He wanted her to come, he wanted both of them to leave, together, but she said no. She stayed behind for _him_. 

How many lives had been lost because of her decision? How many people were left wounded and suffering because of her? 

_What if Soren had died?_

What if she’d killed Amaya, or Callum, or Ezran? What if she came out the other side of the battle—dirty, exhausted, starving, but unscathed—and they just … weren’t there anymore? 

Everyone else was paying the price for Claudia’s mistakes. So easily, it could have gone worse. So easily, their father wouldn’t be the only person dead. What would she have done, if one of her friends had died by her hand? Her brother? 

Her next breath came as a shallow rasp.

Nothing but luck had stopped that future. And what had she done to deserve that luck? Why was she alive when so many soldiers—good soldiers, good people, parents, siblings, friends, _people_ —were gone now? How many of them had been turned into beasts while her father spared her? 

_He wanted to do that to Soren. He was going to do that to Soren and I still stayed_. 

What had Claudia ever done to deserve her luck? 

_I don’t. I don’t deserve to be okay, alive, I don’t deserve to go back home, they shouldn’t have come back for me, they shouldn’t still care, so many people are dead, I could have killed Soren, they came back for me and they shouldn’t have, I don’t deserve anything, I don’t- I should just-_

She couldn’t catch her breath. She hadn’t said any of it out loud, but she was winded, gasping for air like she’d taken a blow to the back. Beside her, Soren slept, one arm around ribs she knew hadn’t yet healed. She tried to focus on the pattern of his breathing, on his soft snores, but her gasps were getting more desperate and her skin itched, her vision was focusing too hard, too narrow, and she had to get out, she had to- She needed air- She needed- 

Claudia bolted up and tore from the tent. 

It was still dark out, though dawn would come soon. The stars in the sky were just beginning to disappear. The fire was going, but burned low in the pit, just enough that it still flickered and warmed the air around it. Amaya was poking at it with a stick, still awake. Keeping watch, she’d said. Just in case. 

Her head turned as Claudia stood, the flap of the tent falling shut behind her. Amaya’s eyes studied her shaking form. They lingered on where Claudia’s arms were wrapped around herself, something like a hug, just trying to hold herself together, then on her cheeks, which Claudia only now realized were damp.

Amaya inched over on the log. She patted the space next to her. 

Claudia sat. 

Her heart thudded like a war drum and her skin jumped with untamed shivers. She could hear a ringing in her head, just like before, that wouldn’t seem to go away. She tried to pull in a breath, one good breath, but it came too quick and too shallow. 

Amaya’s arm came up to wrap around her shoulders, free hand rubbing up and down Claudia’s arm as the other held the stick that prodded the fire. Whether it was an attempt to warm her or comfort her, Claudia didn’t know, but she appreciated the embrace all the same. She leaned closer, her shivers beginning to lessen. 

They sat for a few minutes, watching the fire. She found her breathing after a while, timing it with the movement of Amaya’s hand up and down her arm. The fire crackled with energy, moving and twisting with its own sort of life. 

Claudia stared. 

She saw the sunfire queen, fallen. How many soldiers fallen? Civilians. 

Claudia led them there. She led them over the breach. 

She began to shake again. 

Amaya sat down her stick and turned to her, eyebrows pinching in concern. She waved her hand, but Claudia wouldn’t look at her, just stared into the fire with welling eyes and a harsh bite on her bottom lip. 

She didn’t deserve Amaya’s concern. She didn’t deserve for them to come back for her. 

She closed her eyes as the tears rolled down her face, arms wrapping around her middle. She felt hands on her, trying to pull her into a hug. She yanked herself away. Her feet carried her away from the fire as she hugged herself tighter. 

Once again, Claudia came to a decision. 

She turned around, eyes finding Amaya’s cautious gaze. 

Her hands shook as she signed. 

_I - not - want - go back - home_.

Amaya stared, eyebrows furrowed, looking … Claudia didn’t know. Reading people had never been a strong suit of hers, and now, she couldn’t place what was on Amaya’s face. If she had to put a name to it, it might be determination, but that didn’t feel right. Maybe stubbornness, maybe anger, maybe mourning. 

“We’re going home.” 

Claudia shook her head. 

_I - not--_

Her hands stilled. 

_I - can’t--_

Her fingers shook. 

_I - can’t_ , she signed, chin trembling. _Can’t - can’t - can’t - can’t - can’t--_

Amaya held out her hands, motioning for her to stop. She stood, but didn’t approach. “Why?” 

Claudia wracked her brain for the sign, for her reason. _I don’t deserve it_ , she thought. _I can’t face that, I can’t face everyone again knowing I was on the wrong side, I can’t bear for them to take me back, I don’t_ deserve _it, please. Please._

Claudia raised a finger to point at herself. There was supposed to be something that followed, some explanation. Her finger hovered, aimed at her heart. 

_Me_. 

That was it. That was all she signed. 

“Where will you go?” Amaya asked. 

Claudia didn’t know the answer. _Back to the cave, maybe_ , she thought. _Just rot with my father_. 

“You’ll leave him?” Amaya asked, her finger holding in its point at the tent, which muffled the gentle sound of Soren’s snoring. “What will you tell him?” 

_Stop_ , Claudia signed. 

“He’s scared. He needs you. He needs his sister.” 

_Stop!_ Claudia signed more forcefully, her hands hitting together. 

Amaya’s hands fell. She sighed. 

“Okay.” She held up her hands for a moment, as if in surrender. “I won’t stop you. Go say goodbye.” 

Claudia’s heart lurched. 

Because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair the sign she had used—it wasn’t just goodbye, just a farewell. It was a sign she had taught them when they were little, one Claudia and Soren had used on silent nights hiding from their parents’ fighting. That’s why they had learned sign in the first place, to use on nights like that, when they were too afraid to speak in fear that their father would overhear and come after them next. Their hands were young and clumsy, nothing like Amaya’s deft speech, but that was a sign they had grafted onto. It was one that, all these years later, Claudia still remembered. 

It wasn’t just a goodbye. The hand was waving in a farewell, but the fingers said something different. 

_I-L-Y_

_I love you_. 

Claudia sunk to the ground. 

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave him again, not again, she couldn’t choose … choose what? What was she choosing over her brother this time, what was she choosing except to tear the remnants of her family further apart? She didn’t want to go home, she didn’t deserve it, but _Soren_ didn’t deserve for her to leave. Soren didn’t deserve to lose the last member of his family. Amaya was right, she couldn’t do that to him. They had to stick together. All they had left was each other. 

“Claudia?” came a sleepy mumble from inside the tent. 

Claudia wrapped her arms around her knees. 

“Claudia!” 

The tent flaps burst open, and Soren came spilling out, one arm around his ribs, hair rumpled. It took a moment for his eyes to find her on the ground, peering up at him, but as soon as they did, his shoulders dropped and relief washed over his face. 

“I thought you …” He swallowed. 

Her chin trembled from where it was hidden behind her knees. She shook her head. 

“Okay.” He nodded, hand coming up to scratch through the stubble on his chin. He took a shaky breath and wiped at his eyes. “Did you get any sleep?” 

She didn’t answer. She stared up at him, tears hanging on the edges of her eyelashes, and wondered how she’d even let him leave in the first place. 

_Sorry_ , she signed. 

His brows furrowed. He made his way towards her and gingerly lowered himself to the ground. 

“What for?” 

Her hands trembled. _Everything_. 

He watched her. He nodded. “Me too.” 

_You - not - need - sorry. I - sorry_. 

“I’m sorry that …” He sighed something shaky and swallowed again. “I’m sorry I left. I shouldn’t have made you choose.” 

Tears dripped down Claudia’s cheeks. She shook her head. 

“No, I- I am, I … It wasn’t fair. I’m your big brother, I’m supposed to _protect_ you, and … I failed. I left you with _him_ , and I shouldn’t have.” 

Claudia shook her head. She wanted to comfort him, to assure him that it was _her_ fault, not his, never his, but she didn’t have the words. She reached out with one shaking hand, and he took it in his own. She used it to pull herself closer, shuffling until she was by his side. She laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped one careful arm around his middle. Between them, their hands were clasped. 

“But now, we can just … We can move on, right?” Soren asked. He didn’t sound convinced, like maybe he was searching, desperately, for the answer. “We can move on because he’s not here anymore to … to yell at us, or manipulate us, or make us feel stupid … I never wanted to leave you, Claudia, you have to believe that. I just … I couldn’t stand to be around him anymore. He made me feel like _nothing_ \- He- I couldn’t stand who he was turning me into. Both of us.” 

Claudia nodded. She was staining his shirt with her tears, she was sure. 

A blanket dropped around their shoulders. Claudia looked up, startled, but Amaya only rested a hand on her hair for a moment before going back to tend the fire. 

Soren tilted so his cheek was resting on top of her head. He sighed. 

“I’m sorry I chose him.” 

This, Claudia knew, was not about before the battle, or before they left to find the princes. This was, Claudia realized, something that went far deeper. It was something older, something she hadn’t realized until now might be eating away at him. 

_Mom_ , she signed. 

“Yeah.” 

When their mother was leaving, it wasn’t Claudia who chose, and it wasn’t Claudia who chose their father. She’d been told then not to choose between her parents, but to choose her brother. 

“You need each other,” her mother had said. “Stay with him.” 

If she’d been right about anything, she was right about that. 

She was right about that.

Claudia was choosing Soren. Right here, right now, she was choosing him. She wasn’t choosing herself, or her own future, she wasn’t choosing to go back home, or be with the princes, or anyone. 

Just Soren. 

Claudia raised her hand. 

_I-L-Y_

“Yeah,” Soren said, shifting in a chuckle. “You too, Clauds.” 

They sat, looking out at the trees as the sun slowly rose over them, chasing away the stars and the darkened night. The fire dimmed and sputtered out. It was a new day, one they would face together. 

Amaya shuffled dirt over the fire and gathered their supplies. She folded the tent, packed their bags, and readied the horses. Finally, she came to crouch in front of them. 

“It’s a long journey. Are you ready to go home?” 

Amaya looked at her, and Soren did too, both waiting for her answer. Claudia was tired—her body ached, her lips were cracked from days without water; she missed sleep, real sleep, desperately. But the sun heralded a fresh start, had dawned on a new world where Claudia maybe, finally, cautiously, had things figured out. 

Going back to the castle was something Claudia didn’t know if she was ready for. She would have days, maybe weeks of travel to prepare, to work herself up to greet those stone walls and familiar faces. But _home_ ... that was something different. And she realized, sitting there, her back to the dying fire and her head tilted towards the sun, her cheek pillowed on her brother’s shoulder and hand clasped in his … 

_Home_. She already was. She’d made up her mind—where Soren went, she would follow. 

Claudia nodded. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ buckysbears :*


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